Konstantine
by fancykidx
Summary: JONAS. NACY. "I wish she's happy." He says out loud, to no one in particular, right before the clock turns 11:12. Long Oneshot.


**I believe in music. I love music, I breathe music, I live music. The song that this new fic is based on, "Konstantine" by Something Corporate, is the first song ever that made me cry. 9 minutes and 35 seconds of pure bliss. When I started writing this fic, I knew I wanted to base it on this song, but I didn't really intend for it to be as long as it is. I was thinking maybe 6000 words at the most. Imagine my surprise when I finished typing and it came out to over 9000. Shocking! I was thinking about making it multi chapter, but I knew I was going to be too lazy to upload new chapters periodically, so here it is in all it's glory. Anyway, I sincerely hope you enjoy this story. It took me awhile to do, and I feel like it kind of fell apart at the end, but I'll let you be the judge.**

**WARNING: Rated T for underage drinking and very very VERY minor nudity.  
**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own JONAS, or the song "Konstantine" by Something Corporate. I do, however, own the plotline.  
**

**

* * *

**

_But I'm slipping in between you and your big dreams_

_It's always you in my big dreams_

1.

Nick Lucas had always had big dreams.

There's no other way to put it. He had always wanted the best, he had always wanted to be the best. He would spend hours working on something that only takes a few minutes, because he wanted people to _ooh_ and _ahh_ at it. He hated obstacles, he hated when things weren't part of his plan. And he especially hated it when he was made to feel stupid.

Which makes it no surprise when, at the young age of 5, he kicks sand into the face of the girl sitting in the sand box next to him, all because she dared to tell him that the sand castle he was making was slightly lopsided.

She had cried and screamed and ran to her mother and Nick would have felt guilty but she had _insulted his sand castle_, the one he spent almost 2 hours on. Nick had tried to explain this to his mother when he returned home but she was not hearing one word of it. And really, what kind of mother would side against her son? Life wasn't fair.

She had scolded him and brought him back to the park so that he could apologize to the young girl. To say he was angry would have been an understatement.

However, when he returned to the sandbox, his mother a safe distance away as per his request so as not to embarrass him even more, he began to feel guilty. The girl stared up at him, her wide brown eyes hurt and a bit terrified and he felt like a horrible person for doing something so mean to such a pretty girl.

"You kicked sand at me." She said softly, and he could see her inching away from him, as if he was going to do it again.

Nick sat down next to her and for a moment didn't say anything. "My mommy told me to say sorry."

The girl scoffed. "Is that you saying sorry?"

"No, it's me saying I'm supposed to."

"Well no thanks!" Her words are said in a scathing tone, as if she were trying to hurt him back. And it was working.

"Let me do it first!" The girl just glared at him, but didn't say a word. He took this as his sign to continue. "You said my sand castle was uneven. I didn't like that. I don't like it when I'm not the best."

Suddenly the scowl on the girl's face turned to an expression of interest. It was as if him sharing that little piece of information was enough for her to get distracted. "Why?"

"Because I want to be famous when I'm older, and I have to be the best to be famous."

"Famous? Like an actor?"

"No, like a singer."

"Are you going to travel the world?" She's staring at him in awe, and Nick feels very happy that his mom brought him back to apologize, because he _loves_ it when people look at him like that, like he's a force to be reckoned with.

"Of course! China and England and California and one day I might even get to meet the president and he'll tell me I'm one of his favorites!" Nick smiles at the thought, so determined that it would happen.

"That's scary." She's no longer staring at him in awe and wonder, but the expression that was on her face wasn't an unfriendly one. Nick wasn't sure what to make of the way her eyes were wide, or the way the pinkish tint on her cheeks made her look much prettier than before.

"I'm a big boy," Nick says proudly, sitting up straighter and puffing out his chest slightly. Suddenly, a wonderful thought occurs to him. "Hey, maybe you can come with me!"

"I'm only 5!" She says, scandalized at the thought.

"So?"

"So I'm too young!"

Nick smiles softly. "You're never too young to get your dream." And when she smiles at him, _yeah_, that's definitely a blush on his cheeks. He wonders what's going on, what's happening, but doesn't question it.

"What's your dream?"

The girl ponders for a moment, stalling by glancing back at Nick's mother, who was chatting with her own. "I want to be happy."

"That's... your dream?" Nick is surprised. He expected something like teacher, or nurse. _Happy_? That's what she wants to be?

The girl nodded. "Yeah. My mommy's not happy anymore because my daddy left. I want to be happy so she can be happy, because when I smile, she smiles."

Suddenly the joking atmosphere of the conversation turned serious as Nick absorbed what she had just said. Who knew a 5 year old was just as observant as he was? He opened his mouth to continue the conversation, but noticed his mom gesturing to him that it was time to leave.

Nick sighs. He likes this girl and he's enjoying himself. He wants to tell his mom to give him 5 more minutes but when he looks at the sky it's turning the orange-y red color that signals the beginning of the end of the day and he knows she won't let him. And so he stands up, brushing the sand from his jean shorts. "My mom says I have to go, but I hope you get your dream. And also, I'm sorry for kicking sand into your face." He realizes how delayed this apology is, how it's funny that he's apologizing when it's already obvious that he's forgiven.

"It's okay." The girl stands up too, and Nick notices for the first time that she's wearing a dress, a yellow dress, and he wants to make a comment about how ridiculous it is to be wearing a dress in the sand box but he bites his tongue. Besides, she looks really pretty in it. "I'm sorry for making fun of your sand castle. I didn't know it was such a big deal."

"It's okay." They stand there staring at each other for a moment, and Nick fidgets slightly under her stare. "I..." he starts, but he's unsure of what he was going to say.

He's saved the embarrassment of having to fumble for words by his mother, who is walking over and taking his hand and telling him he has to go. He hastily says goodbye to the girl and walks away with his mother. When he glances back, he sees that she's sitting back down in the sand box and working on a sand castle of her own, as if the conversation they just had had never taken place.

It's not until he gets home that he realizes he never asked her for her name. He's upset with himself, because how could he have forgotten to get such a vital piece of information from her? However, he reconciles himself with the fact that he has a whole summer of days to go back to the sandbox and see her again.

But he never does. See her, he means. Although he went to the sandbox almost daily, sometimes staying there for a whole 6 hours, he never sees her again.

He wonders if she was actually real, or if he had just imagined the entire conversation had ever taken place. Perhaps she was his mind's creation. There's no way that a girl like that could exist, anyway.

2.

When Nick turns 11, he reaches his dream.

It's not what he had imagined initially, as his brothers are there with him, but he'll take what he can get. One second he's sitting in his classroom waiting for the bell to signal the end of the school day, and the next he's sitting in a meeting with the president of one of the most influential record companies in the country. Instead of having to worry about schoolwork and who to sit next to on the bus, Nick's days are filled with carefully constructed schedules that include photoshoots, interviews, recording, and the like.

It's all a whirlwind of events, and Nick loves every second of it. This is his dream; this is what he had been wanting since he first learned how to speak. He tells the truth whenever he says he is "living the dream" in interviews, because he _is_. But he still can't help feeling like he's forgetting something, like his dream isn't as perfect as it could be, like something is missing.

One day he and his brothers are on a tour of the White House in Washington D.C., right before they're about to perform the Star Spangled Banner for the president, when he remembers: _brown eyes. Pink cheeks. Yellow dress._

He messes up slightly at the line _'at the twilight's last gleaming.'_

He is mentally kicking himself for screwing up such an important moment, but he couldn't help it: how can he concentrate when he's thinking about another equally significant moment?

It seems no one notices though, and when he goes to shake the hand of the president, all set to apologize profusely for messing up, the president tells him that he's a fan of his music. Nick's eyes go wide and he accepts the compliment happily, a bit too eager in the way he shakes the president's hand. It's all he can think about for hours afterward, but there's still that nagging thought in the back of his head, and his happy thoughts keep getting interrupted with images of sand and eyes filled with awe.

That night, as he's sitting at his desk writing a song for a recording session the next day, he happens to glance at the clock: _11:11_ it reads, and he sits upright as the old tradition creeps into his mind.

He ponders for a moment on what to wish for, and for a moment he thinks_, there's nothing to wish for. I have everything. _But then his mind fills with the images he had been pushing back the whole day, and his mind instantly thinks, _I wish I could meet her again_. But it sounds selfish wishing for something like that, as if he only wants to show off his new life to the girl, and instead he goes with something else.

"I wish she's happy." He says out loud, to no one in particular, right before the clock turns 11:12. He's quiet for a moment, and then nods his head before going back to his song.

It's the first night he makes a wish on 11:11, but it's certainly not the last. It becomes almost second nature to him, interrupting whatever he's doing at the time to make that tiny wish. He's not entirely sure why he's so insistent on her being happy, but it was her dream. And he wanted everyone to get their dream.

The first concert he played after that night, he had a new idea. Sitting at his piano, he stares out at the sea of faces all smiling back up at him. He's so overwhelmed with happiness mixed with a tinge of gloom, because this is _it,_ this is _everything_, but it's not.

"How many of you have a dream?" He asks, and thousands of hands rise as an ear-shattering scream fills the stadium. He smiles wide and continues. "The best people in the world had a dream. Martin Luther King Jr., Abraham Lincoln. Even Oprah Winfrey." He pauses for a moment, trying to figure out how to word his thoughts correctly. "I had a dream, too. My dream was to be a musician, to do what I love, and travel the world. I worked on that dream every day, for as long as I can remember." He stares out again at the audience, and he's not sure why, but he was expecting to see those wide brown eyes staring back up at him. "I got my dream. I'm living my dream in front of the whole world, and I couldn't be happier."

Screams erupt from every person in the building, and Nick's heartbeat speeds up, his palms get sweaty, and _god,_ he loves this. "I want you to know that I believe in your dreams. I believe you can become anything you want. So I want you to follow your dreams, and don't _ever_ stop following them. Dream of being an actor, dream of helping people… dream of being _happy_." He pauses at this, smiling to himself, and more screams come at him. "Whatever you do, don't stop dreaming. You can do anything you set your mind to, anything you believe in. And I'm proof of that." He glances over at his brothers, who are watching him with smiles on their faces, and he smiles back. "Don't be scared. You're never too young to reach your dream."

And as the last notes of the piano fade away, he sits and closes his eyes, and he can almost hear the light tinkling sound of _her_ voice over the cheers of the audience. But maybe it's just in his mind.

3.

When Nick is 15, he meets Macy Misa.

Nick isn't sure what to make of her at first. But to be honest, he didn't have much time to come up with an impression of her before he was lying on the floor, clutching his abdomen in pain. Disregarding Stella's claims that Macy was really a nice girl, he vowed to never make more interaction with her than necessary. He feels guilty, but what can he do? She's an obstacle. If he were to come close to her she could break his back or his hand or something equally important and cause him to postpone a show or an interview and he'll be _damned_ if he's going to let some girl with an excessive amount of energy and excitement ruin his dream for him.

Still, he can't help but observe her from time to time. When she doesn't think he's watching, she turns into a regular high school girl: chatting with her teammates from her – oh god, so _many_ – sports teams, arguing with teachers over her grades, being Stella's best friend. Sometimes he forgets that she's still dangerous and on those occasions when he'll congratulate her on a job well done at one of her games, he'll find himself ducking for cover from a baseball bat and ignore her for days afterwards.

Kevin and Joe find it hilarious, and sometimes they'll purposely try and put Nick in harm's way. He wonders why Macy is not as dangerous to his brothers, why he's the only one that has to carry around a fully stocked first aid kit while his brothers just have to carry ice packs. He eventually comes to the conclusion that it's his intense demeanor: he's been told he's so serious that it's sometimes nerve-wrecking to be in the same room as him.

So he observes from a safe distance away. And sometimes – he's not 100% sure, but he usually has a good sense about these kinds of things – he'll feel her observing him back, as if he's an enigma that she's trying to figure out. It confuses him, and he'll try to catch her at it, but she's even better than he is.

The idea that someone is better at something than he is is so ludicrous, though, that he eventually comes to disregard it as a figment of his imagination.

4.

Nick was stupid, so entirely stupid, to not have seen this coming.

People had warned him – his parents, Stella, his brothers, even the _captain of the baseball team,_ who he had never spoken to before in his life – and yet, when he overheard the conversation for himself, he could hear his heart break.

"He's _this_ close to asking me to be the opening act on his tour," she had said to her best friend when she thought Nick was in the bathroom. "After the tour is over and I sign a contract with a record company, I dump him, talk to _People_ magazine about our heart wrenching breakup, mention my new album a few times, and before you know it, I'll be number one on the charts." They had giggled and high fived and flipped their hair, not noticing Nick was there until he was standing right in front of them, staring at them with accusing, angry, heartbroken eyes.

After he had angrily announced that she wasn't that great of a singer and he may have been stupid enough to go out with her but he was not stupid enough to let her sing on his tour, he had walked away and called up his brothers to ask them to pick him up.

Only, neither Kevin nor Joe were picking up his calls, even though he called them each 3 times. He knew better than to interrupt Stella when she was in the middle of her weekly update of the Stellavator. His mother was sick in bed, his father was in a meeting with the head of merchandising for the tour coming up, and the Big Man had the night off. So now here he was, searching every inch of the mall, trying to find _someone_ who looked vaguely familiar that could drive him home.

He had just about given hope when he noticed a familiar looking brunette exiting the building through the revolving glass door. Nick started after her, but quickly stopped and bit his lip. _Ask _Macy Misa_ for a ride home? _He shuddered, picturing the headlines: "_Nick Lucas Killed in an Automobile Crash!" _He could always walk home… Except, of course, _home_ was exactly 4.3 miles away, and there was no _way_ he could walk that distance before his curfew. Gritting his teeth and telling himself to be brave, he ran after her. "Macy!"

Macy spun around just as he reached her, accidently hitting him in the side with her shopping bags. "Nick! Oh, I'm so sorry!" She said, as he bent over, clutching his leg in pain.

_This was probably a bad idea,_ Nick thought, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths so as not to let his anger get the best of him. "Macy, can you… do you think you can drive me home?" He says this as calmly as he can, trying to infuse his signature persuasiveness into his already angry and hurt voice.

Macy's eyes go wide and she starts to hyperventilate. "An actual – Jonas – in – my car, oh my god – "

"Macy! Snap out of it!" Nick is about this close to slapping her to try and calm her down as she takes a few shuddering breaths.

"Sorry, sorry!" She says, trying to shoot him a smile. It's then that she notices the expression on his face: his eyes are filled with pain and watering slightly, his teeth gritted together to try and force the tears to not fall. His shoulders are slumped over, his hair looked messy from running his fingers through his hair so much, and in general, he did _not_ look good. "Yeah, yeah, Nick, I – of course I can drive you home." She shoots him another smile, this one more tentative and comforting, but he doesn't return it.

As they pull out of the parking lot, Nick leans his head back and closes his eyes. _Stupid, stupid, stupid. _He should've _known_ she was using him for his fame. Should've suspected it from the start, when photographers started to become a constant on their dates, and even though she had sworn up and down that she didn't know how they always knew where to find them, how _else_ were they able to show up at restaurants before they even got there?

For the first time in his life, Nick was starting to really _hate_ his dream. Sure, he got to play music, but at what cost? No one was real to him anymore, not even someone he thought really liked him.

Macy pulled up to the firehouse and shut off her engine. Just as Nick was about to turn to her to thank her, Macy said, "Nick of JONAS? Are you okay?"

All of the anger and frustration and hurt that had built up inside of Nick that night spilled over, and Nick lost it.

Nick's eyes snapped open and he said, in the coldest voice he could muster, "_No, _Macy, I am _not_ okay. I just found out my girlfriend of two months had been using me for my fame all along, and that she never really cared about me, only about what I could bring her. She's probably going around right now to everyone who will listen about how '_Nick Lucas, the sensitive musician_' broke her heart, and it's probably going to end up on the cover of magazines by the end of this week. Oh, and I'm also sitting in a car that smells like old Chinese food, with a girl that I _barely_ know and don't even really _want_ to know, that injures me every possible chance she gets and refuses to see me as anything more than a member of a band. So _no_, Misa, I am _not_ okay, because I'm starting to think that my _dream_ is becoming a _nightmare._"

Nick whips his head around to shoot her the nastiest glare he can come up with (because he _wants_ to be mean, wants to hurt people, is _sick_ of having to be the nice one _all the freaking time_), but then he sees that Macy's not even looking him, not even in tears like he expected her to be.

Instead, Macy looks thoughtful as she pushes the button that opens up the window that faces the sky in her car. "Nick, tell me which of the stars you see is the brightest one."

Nick's glare intensifies. "_Macy, _what is the point in this?"

"Just do it," she says, leaning over and pressing the recline button on his seat.

_I should've just walked home,_ Nick thought, redirecting his glare to the stars. He stares up at them for a few seconds before pointing at one over his left shoulder. "That one."

Macy looks up at it, and then nods. But then she points at one slightly below her nose. "What about that one, though?" Nick looks at it and indeed, it _is_ brighter than the one he picked out. "Or that one?" She pointed at another star. "It's much brighter than the other two stars put together."

Nick rolls his eyes and sighs. "What are you going on about, Macy?"

Macy shrugs, smiling up at the stars. "There's so many stars out there, Nick. There's so many that are bright, but there are more that are even _brighter_. Just because the first star you see caught your eye, doesn't mean there isn't going to be a better, brighter one. And the better, brighter one will make you see that the original star you saw just… wasn't as great."

There's silence then as Nick absorbs these words, and _what?_ Who knew he would be having this conversation with _Macy_ of all people in the world?

"As for your dream being a nightmare..." Macy continues, shooting him a smile. "Well, I wouldn't say that. Sometimes I feel that way about my life, too. I mean, I'm nowhere near as famous as you, but people use me, too - I mean, I _am _best friends with Stella, and I _do_ have an in with the football team. But when I get that way, I just think of the sky at night. It's dark, but there are always pinpoints of light to see. And who cares if a few stars are dull? There's even more out there that are worth having to experience all the darkness." She turns to Nick. "A dream is just what it's name suggests, Nick. It's just a dream. It's never as perfect as you want it to be. But that doesn't mean it isn't any less incredible."

She stares into Nick's eyes and everything changes: it's cliché and strange, but in that moment, Nick doesn't see a hallway hazard: he sees a pretty girl from his high school with hypnotizing brown eyes and a brain full of surprises. His mind conjures up images of sunsets with his best friends and eating breakfast at night and sipping hot chocolate by a fire and it doesn't make sense to him but when he focuses back on Macy she seems to fit in perfectly.

And Nick takes back every mean thing he's ever thought about the girl, because she's just as human as he is and so what if she injured him all the time? Accidents happen, right? And so when he shoots her a smile, it's genuine. "Macy… I'm sorry. For what I said about you, I mean. And your car." His lips twitch slightly, fighting the urge to smile.

Macy shrugs it off. "You're upset. I get it. I've tried to act normal around you, but it's just... hard to, sometimes. I still see you as JONAS, because I've seen you guys that way for the past 4 years of my life. Old habits die hard. Especially since I know you don't really like being around me. With that, it's even harder to see you as people because I don't spend time with you."

Nick stares at her guiltily, gulping slightly. "It's not that I don't like you, it's just…" He stops, trying to find the words.

Macy laughs. When his eyes look at her questioningly, she stifles it. "Sorry, I just – it sounds like you're breaking up with me, or something." She nervously giggles again, and he lets out a reluctant chuckle, his mind going back to the break up he had _just_ encountered. "I get it, though. It's not that you don't like me, it's just that you don't want to get injured with a baseball bat or hockey stick, or whatever else is in my hands at the moment. If I were you, I probably wouldn't want to make too much contact with myself, either."

Nick tries to think of something nice to say, to try and show that he really is not usually as mean as he is tonight, but then –

"You should probably be getting inside now," Macy says, unlocking the doors. "They're probably wondering where you are. Sorry to get all deep and philosophical on you tonight, by the way. I wasn't expecting it, either." She giggles again.

"It's okay," Nick says, smiling at her again. "I mean, I _am_ the serious one, remember? These are the kinds of conversations I enjoy having." He unclicks his seatbelt and opens the door, before leaning towards Macy. "Goodnight, Macy."

"Goodnight," she breathes out, and he smirks, realizing that she was speechless because of his close proximity. When he steps out, he stands there waiting for her to drive off.

Nick walks into his house with a small smile on his lips.

"So, I take it the date went well?" Nick snaps out of his reverie and sees Kevin and Joe standing in front of him, their arms crossed and amusing smiles on their faces.

"Uhm, no." Nick thinks, and was it _really_ only tonight that he broke up with his girlfriend? He doesn't even feel the heartbreak anymore. "Actually, I broke up with her because I heard her telling her best friend that she only wanted to be the opening act on our tour."

The smiles slide off their faces, and they each take a step closer to Nick, Joe placing a hand on his shoulder to try and comfort him. "Are you okay?" Kevin asks, playing the part of the concerned older brother. "Do you want to be alone?"

Nick stares at him for a second, his mind still thinking about the conversation he had just had with Macy. Suddenly, a brilliant idea pops into his head, and _yeah,_ he's no longer stupid. "No, not really. Actually, I have something to talk about with you guys." Nick grins again, the widest he has that entire night.

"What do you think about bringing Macy on tour with us?"

5.

It takes Nick 3 days straight to convince his brothers, his parents, Stella, and himself that this was a great idea. Macy can't see them as regular people because she doesn't spend enough time with them: what better way to spend time with them than on a 3 month tour? Nick is a _genius._

When the tour starts, Macy is nervous and frantic and much too keyed up, but Nick doesn't give up on her. He's there to calm her down when she gets too excited, to tell her to breathe when she falls into one of her fangirl episodes. In turn, she's there with a towel and a bottle of water when he comes offstage and a shoulder to lean on when his diabetes gets to be too much for him to handle.

"So what do you want to do with your life?" Nick asks her one night, as the bus is driving through Arkansas.

Macy smiles. "Sports. Any sport. _Every_ sport, really."

Nick lets out a low whistle. "That's quite ambitious."

"I love it," She said, and a dreamy look dawned on her face. Nick recognized it; it's the same look his own face gets when he talks about music. "There's just kind of a… rhythm to it. Does that make sense? When I'm running, or throwing, or catching, everything just kind of… flows." She pauses, and when she looks into Nick's eyes, he catches the fire in them, the passion. Sports is what she _loves_. "It sounds kind of insane, but…"

"No," Nick says quickly, leaning closer to her, his face just as eager as hers. "I get it. It's how I feel about music."

Macy smiles back. "You know, you're very lucky to be able to live your dream."

"You'll be able to live yours one day." Nick promises her.

The smile on Macy's face falters slightly as she leans back, away from him. Nick, startled, sends her a questioning look, but she averts her eyes and mumbles, "Yeah, maybe."

An awkward silence passes over them as Nick wonders what just happened. He looks down at his hands to have something to do, and notices the time. "It's 11:11," he whispers softly to her. Macy's eyes lock with his, and there's something in there that Nick can't place, can't name. "Make a wish."

Nick closes his eyes and his mind goes back to when he was 5, back to the sandbox, back to the pretty young girl with the yellow dress, like it usually does when he wishes on 11:11. _I wish she's happy,_ he thinks, and it's become so routine that it surprises him slightly when, as soon as he wishes it, his mind goes to Macy and that night back in her car. He remembers the stars, and how the first star he saw wasn't as bright as the second, or the third. And he thinks about that girl that he met back in the sandbox that one day many years back; she had been a bright star, one of the brightest, and yet…

When Nick opens his eyes again and sees Macy staring back at him, a strange sort of intensity in her eyes, Nick starts to think that maybe he had found an even brighter one.

The next few days after that incident are a blur, a whirlwind of events, and Nick's not quite sure how it happened, but he finds out too late that he is palms sweaty, heart racing, tossing and turning at night, head over heels in _love_ with Macy.

_I can't, though,_ he thinks to himself one night when everyone else is asleep. _I can't be in love with her. How would it work out? I'm gone for months at a time, girls throw themselves at me every day… Macy wants to be an athlete. That's her dream, and how could she live her dream and be with me at the same time? I'm going to want her to be there for me for tours and interviews, and that's impossible if she's going to be training for her next game. I'd only get in the way of her dream, a distraction. I can't be in love with her._

6.

Nick is confused and frustrated and hurting and so he isn't to be blamed for his actions when he is caught – by Macy, no less – kissing their opening act, Dana.

Nick's not sure what caused him to do it, why one second she was asking him for advice on how to handle crazy fans and the next second he was sliding his hands through her hair while his other hand rested lightly on her hip. Maybe it's the fact that she was famous, and could handle the long tours and hectic schedules better than he believed Macy could. Maybe it's the fact that she _looked_ like Macy, with her trusting brown eyes and her deep brown hair. And so what if she wasn't as great as Macy, so what if she didn't _shine_ as brightly as Macy did?

Maybe he was kissing her just for the fact that she _wasn't_ Macy.

Whatever the reason, he pulled away from her the instant he heard the surprised gasp. He turned his eyes to the doorway, where _she_ was standing, her eyes wide and her mouth dropped open in shock.

"I…" Dana said, backing away from Nick. "Sorry, Nick, but I… don't feel the same way for you." She hurried off, quickly wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

Nick only had eyes for Macy. He watched warily as her mouth closed and her eyes gradually grew smaller.

He realized the instant her mind was able to process the scene, because the shock in her eyes quickly changed to one of hurt and pain and if there was a gun or knife in the room with him right now Nick would've killed himself with it, because the accusing look she shot at him made his heart shrivel and die.

"Macy, I – "

"S-sa-save it." Macy managed to stutter out. Tears sprang into her eyes and her hands balled up into fists. "I… we were never anything, right? Y-you – you don't have to e-explain – anything."

Nick takes a step closer, but she flinches and takes a step back. Nick suddenly realizes how stupid it was, how stupid he is, to have done this. He was ruining everything, he was hurting the person he loved, and he _was so stupid._

"Macy – " He started desperately, wanting her to understand, _needing _her to understand. He was doing this for _her,_ he was hurting himself – because he _was_ hurting himself everytime he had to pretend to be just her friend – for _her,_ and _her_ dream, and he reached out to her to help her see –

"Nick, we go on in like 10 minutes, bro, hurry up and – " Joe shows up in the doorway and stops in surprise. He takes in the frantic look on Nick's face and the tearful look on Macy's. "Whoa – what's going on?"

"Nothing," Macy said, hastily wiping away a few tears and giving Joe a watery smile. "Nothing's wrong."

"Macy – " Nick tries again, but Macy is already backing out of the room slowly, not looking at him or Joe, keeping her eyes on the floor.

"I'm going to go find S-Stella, and we-we'll… we'll go get our s-seats." She walks away quickly, and Nick makes to follow her, to make everything right, but Joe stops him.

"I don't know what you did, Nick, and you're going to fix it, but not right now, because we have to get on stage."

"Joe – "

"_Not right now."_ And Nick allows himself to be pulled in the opposite direction, away from Macy, and he remembers that night with Macy and remembers that he's supposed to be paying attention to the pinpoints of light instead of the darkness, but he can't.

7.

"Nick, I need you to come pick us up." Stella's voice is quiet, whispering, and it makes Nick sit up straight in his bed, makes him rub the sleep out of his eyes.

"Who is 'us?' And where are you?" Up until that moment, he was under the impression that Stella was safe in her hotel room, consoling Macy, who was ignoring him.

"Us as in Macy and – "

Suddenly, Nick hears the phone being jostled a bit. He can hear Stella slapping away someone's hand, hears her say "No, don't – " and then he hears a new voice, one that sends his heart soaring and then makes his blood boil.

"Nick?!" The voice says much too excitedly.

"_Macy?_" He asks, wary. _What was going on?_

"Nick!" Macy lets out a giggle. "Nick, Nicky, Nicholas! Nick, where's Dana?"

"Macy, what are you – " Nick hears her hiccup slightly, and his eyes go wide as a sudden thought occurs to him. "Macy, are you _drunk?!_"

"Nooooo," Macy says in a sing-song voice, and Nick jumps out of bed, searching around for his pants.

"Macy," He says seriously, pulling on his pants and grabbing his car keys. "Give the phone back to Stella."

"Why? You don't want to talk to me, huh, Nicky, huh? It's okay, you know, we're just friends, we can be friends and just that – "

"_Macy._" He says this in a stern voice as he laces up his sneakers. "_Give the phone back to Stella."_

There's silence and then he hears the phone drop. "Macy?" He asks frantically, "Macy? Are you okay?"

"She's fine," Stella says into the phone, sounding tired. "She just kind of… fell asleep."

"Where are you." Nick asks, and it's all he can do to keep the pure righteous anger out of his voice. When Stella finishes relaying the address, Nick says, "Stay there. I'm coming."

"I'm sorry, Nick," Stella replies back, and Nick is now racing through the lobby to the front door of the hotel, running to his car. "You were the only option. If I asked an adult, Macy would get into _serious_ trouble, and Kevin and Joe can't keep a secret to save their lives, and – "

"I'll be there in 15 minutes. Make sure Macy is okay." He hangs up his phone.

When he arrives, Stella and Macy are already sitting on the curb outside of the club, Stella holding Macy up as Macy laughs hysterically over something.

"_Are you insane?!"_ He asks Stella furiously. "How did you even _get_ into the club?! How did you get _drinks?!_"

Stella stared at him defiantly. "The bouncer didn't ask us for IDs. Neither did the bartender."

Nick was all set to march over to the bouncer and bartender of the club to give them a piece of his mind, when Macy wobbled over to Nick and threw her arms around him. "Nick!" She squealed, and her breath didn't smell like the mint of her toothpaste like it usually did, it smelled like alcohol, and Nick was gagging. "Nick! You came!"

"I came," He said warily, helping her into the car.

"Nick," She said, her eyes widening slightly. "It's totally _okay_ if you like Dana. Really. Like, _really._" She leans in close, but Nick backs up a bit, because the scent of alcohol was absolutely _overpowering_. "I knew I never really had a shot with you anyway, and I'd rather you be my friend than not have you at all." Suddenly, she laughs. "That sounds like a song, doesn't it?" She laughs some more, before suddenly, she was slumping over in the seat, fast asleep.

Nick jerkily backs up, letting Stella into the car before closing their door.

As he drives, Nick no longer holds back his anger. "How could you let this _happen,_ Stella? What were you thinking? This was the stupidest idea you've ever – "

"_Me?!" _Stella replies. "How could _you_ let this happen?"

"I'm not the one who sat by and let her best friend drink herself into oblivion!"

"But you're the one who _caused_ it!" When Nick didn't answer, Stella continued. "Sure, I let her get drunk. But I was trying to be a supportive friend, I tried to get her to talk to me, but she didn't want to. I didn't abandon her, I stayed by her side and I called you when things started to get bad."

Nick didn't answer for a long moment. Finally, in a stiff voice, he replied, "Thank you, Stella. For being there."

Stella replied just as stiffly. "You're welcome, Nick."

There was silence in the car for a moment before Nick said, "Is she… is she alright?" His voice was a bit rough, filled with emotion at what had happened that day.

"She's fine." Stella said, but after a moment, she shook her head. "No, actually. No. She's not fine. Do you realize how much you _hurt_ her today, Nick? You _like_ her. I _know_ you like her. How could you do that to her?"

"You don't understand," Nick said, as he pulled into the parking lot of the hotel.

"I understand that you love each other," Stella replied softly. "I understand that when she's around, you're not as serious as you usually are. And I understand that tonight, Macy did something she told me she would never do, just because she caught you kissing another girl." She paused for a moment and let that sink in. "You're _hurting_ her, Nick. And for what?"

"For her _dream,_" Nick replied, his voice breaking, because he was hurting her and that was the last thing he had wanted to do. "I'm doing it for her _dream._"

Stella is quiet for a moment. "And what about your dream?"

"… I'm living it."

Stella laughs humorlessly. "This isn't your dream, Nick. Hurting the one you love, kissing random girls to get your mind off of her, dancing around a relationship. This isn't your dream. Your dream has to have Macy in it somewhere. And if you keep acting the way you do, it's not going to happen." Stella unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the door. "I'm going to bed, Nick. Make sure Macy gets to her room safely. And fix this."

8.

Nick managed to sneak Macy into her hotel room without anyone noticing.

As he gently laid her down on her bed, she stirred. "Nick?"

Nick's heart fluttered, and he cursed the fact that all she had to do was say his name and he was putty in her hands. "Yeah?"

"I think I'm going to – to throw up." Nick's eyes widen and they barely manage to make it to the toilet before it comes out, horrible retching noises as Macy empties it all out into the toilet, Nick sitting next to her, holding back her hair.

When it's all done, Macy flushes the toilet and sits back, wiping her mouth with her hand as Nick hands her some water to wash her mouth out with. "Thanks," she muttered, not looking at him. "I… I have to change."

"Oh, right, right." Nick helps her over to her suitcase, where she pulls out a pair of sweatpants and an oversized shirt. He waits politely on her bed as she goes to the bathroom to change.

She's in there for a few minutes before Nick hears a crashing sound. "Are you okay?" He calls out. "Do you need help?"

"I – " Macy replies hesitantly. "No, I'm fine." There's a moment of silence in which Nick sits back down on the bed before – "Actually, I, uh. I need some help. I can't… everything's all blurry and – "

"Open the door," Nick says, walking over. He hears the click and he gently pushes it open, so as not to hit her with it, and –

Nick stops in the doorway, his face going red.

She… she was not naked, exactly; the dress she had worn to the club was still on, but the bottom of it had ridden up and revealed much more of her leg than Nick was used to seeing, and the zipper was undone enough so that he could see much of her back.

She avoided his gaze, embarrassed, and Nick swallowed hard as he took a few steps forward. "On second thought," She whispered slightly, working on covering up her back more, "I can do it myself." But in her drunken state, as she reached for the zipper behind her, she managed to lose her balance and fall to the floor.

Nick swallowed even harder as he sat down on the floor next to her. "Do you trust me?" he whispered, looking her in the eyes. She nodded hesitantly, and he nodded back.

His eyes never straying to her body unless necessary, he pulled the shirt over her head and helped her push her arms through the sleeves. He then helped her balance as she slipped her legs through her pant legs, her holding onto his shoulders as he kept his eyes locked on her face. Only after her sleepwear was on did he reach around and pull down the zipper of her dress, sliding it off and neatly folding it and placing it on the floor.

And it felt so right, to be there with her and have her in his arms, and he knew he shouldn't get used to it, because it _can't_ happen, but every part of him was screaming out that this was where Macy belonged, right here in front of him, looking him with the same intensity he was looking at her with.

"I…" Macy managed to croak out, her voice raspy. "I… Nick, I don't…"

"Don't what?"

"Nick, why… why don't you love me?"

Her voice is broken and quiet, and he sees the flash of pain in her eyes as she says the words. The seconds drag on and Nick still can't bring himself to answer the question, because how _can_ he?

"Nick, just… I want to know. I thought… maybe it was just my imagination, but I _thought_…" Macy sniffled slightly, and to Nick's horror, tears started falling down her face. "Why don't you love me?"

"I can't… Macy, I can't answer that question." Nick's voice was pained, and he wanted so desperately to kiss her, to make everything better, but he couldn't ruin her dream like that.

"Why, Nick? Why? Is it because you think I'm too weak to handle the truth? 'Cause if that's the reason, that's a stupid reason. You can say it! You can say I'm ugly, you can tell me I'm annoying, go ahead, I can take it – " Her voice broke on the last word and suddenly –

Nick pulled her close against his chest and hugged her, inhaling the scent of her hair and running his hands along her arms. His heart was pounding, he was shivering at her close proximity, and he wanted to stay like this _forever._ "Macy, I can't answer that question because I _do_ love you. You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen in my life, I could be around you for days and never get tired of it, and just now, when I was helping you dress – " He swallowed hard, not wanting to say what he was thinking. "When you're right here with me, in my arms like you are now, I feel like I can do _anything._ I _do_ love you."

Macy pulled away and Nick groaned slightly at the loss of her body warmth. "Do you… do you mean that?"

"Of course."

There was silence for a moment as she searched his face, and when she found nothing but truth, she whispered two words: "Kiss me."

And she was coming closer and Nick was leaning in and he could see every freckle on her nose and every shade of brown in her eyes and he could smell the alcohol coming from her and –

_He could smell the alcohol coming from her._

Nick leaned away, taking a few steps back, his eyes wide. _Macy is _drunk._ If you kiss her, you'll be taking advantage of her, even if she asked you to. She'll regret this in the morning, you know she will._

"Nick?" Macy asks, confusion evident on her face.

Nick bit his lip and looked away before managing to choke out, "It's getting late, Macy. You should probably get to sleep. I'll help you get in bed if you want – "

"Get out of my room." Nick looks up at the sound of her voice: raw, hurt, shocked. And all of it was seen on her face. "You need… you need to leave."

"Macy – " Nick starts, but she won't hear a word of it.

"I want you to leave."

They stare at each other for a few moments, and Nick wants to take it back, wants to kiss her, but it was _wrong._ And so he moved closer to give her a hug, but she moved back, shaking her head at him. Nick took a few steps back, running his fingers through his hair. "I… I'm sorry."

"Just get out."

Nick nods and takes a few steps towards the door. "I… good night, Macy." He looks back at her one last time, and she was sitting on the floor, tears running down her face, and he wants to go back and put his arm around her and –

He turns around and walks out the door. He's caused enough damage for one night.

9.

When Macy wakes up the next morning, Nick is there with a cup of water, some aspirin, and a small smile.

"What are you doing here, Nick?" Macy asks groggily. She took the aspirin and water from him and swallowed it.

"Just making sure you're alright."

"I'm _fine._" She spits out, rolling away from him in her bed.

"Macy," Nick sighed, running his fingers through his hair.

"Don't '_Macy_' me, Nick. I'm… no, you're right, I'm not _fine._" She rolls back over and tries to glare at him, but it doesn't work. Her eyes are too filled with hurt and confusion to have any trace of anger in them. "I… I remember last night, Nick. I remember _everything_ from last night." She pushed the covers back and sat up, facing him. "You said you loved me, Nick. You said you _loved_ me, but you didn't kiss me. Why can't you just… why do we have to keep _doing_ this? Why can't you just _love_ me?"

Nick grabs her by her shoulders. ""You want to be an athlete, Macy! You want to go to the Olympics, you want to win games and championships and the Superbowl and everything! You can't…" Nick struggles to find the right words to say. "You can't do any of that if you're hung up on me traveling the world all the time, you can't focus right. you deserve someone who'll be there for you, someone who'll be cheering for you on the sidelines all the time. And I can't do that if I'm halfway around the country from you all the time." Nick paused, recollecting himself before he let himself get too out of hand. "You deserve someone who can love you from right next to you. You deserve someone who can live your dream with you."

Macy laughed humorlessly. "You think being an athlete is my _dream?_"

Nick blinked, confused. "That night in the bus – you said – "

"I said I wanted to be an athlete. That doesn't mean it's my dream. My dream has been the same since we were younger, since we met each other in that sandbox – " Macy's eyes widen as she realizes what she had just let slip.

Nick, however, was shocked. "You… you were her." None of it was making sense to him, he didn't understand what was going on, and –

"I didn't want to tell you," she whispered softly. "I didn't want to get in the way of your dream. I knew all along that you were the boy I met in the sandbox. I pretended to be a fangirl because I didn't want you to know it was me. I… I knew you were going to be famous, Nick. Even back then. And I wanted you to forget about me from then, forget about how scared I was. I didn't think you wanted to be reminded of me."

"But… I _was_ reminded of you." Nick moved closer, trying to get her to look into his eyes. "Every night I've been wishing on 11:11 that you were happy."

And Nick realized how ridiculous it was as soon as he said it – every night, he would wish for her to be happy, and yet look at her now: the last time he had seen her smile a genuine smile was too long ago. "You're not happy."

"I am happy." She whispered, fresh tears pooling in the bottoms of her eyes.

"No, you're not."

Macy took a deep shuddering breath and closed her eyes. "I'm happy when I'm with you."

Nick's heart started beating faster than ever as he wiped away the tears falling down her cheeks. "What if this doesn't work? What happens then?"

"Dreams aren't perfect," She repeated from so many weeks ago. "But that doesn't mean they're any less incredible."

And with that, he leaned in and kissed her, their mouths dancing with each other. It was not perfect – his lips were a little too eager and hers were a little too gentle – but they had been dreaming of this moment for awhile. And just because it wasn't perfect, doesn't mean it wasn't any less incredible.

And when they pulled away, Nick leaned his forehead against hers, before gasping out, "I love you, you know."

"I love you too," she whispered, before chuckling softly. "Y'know, people are going to say we're too young."

Nick let out a breathy laugh as _he_ repeated _his_ words from so many years ago: "You're never too young to get your dream."

_It's not hard to dream_

_You'll always be my Konstantine_

**Review :)**


End file.
